Unlike many children who are peacefully nestled in bed by 8 p.m., my little ones are still wide awake, which led me to investigate the buzz surrounding the book The Rabbit Who Wants to Fall Asleep. This title is touted as a miracle worker for inducing sleep in children, so naturally, I rushed to Amazon and ordered it without hesitation. The rave reviews from fellow parents had me eagerly awaiting its arrival, envisioning serene evenings on the couch while my kids drifted off to dreamland before my favorite show returned this fall.
At last, I found a large, slender envelope in my mailbox. As I ripped it open, a disappointingly thin book slipped out. “Self-published, I see,” I thought. Flipping to the first page, I was greeted with “instructions to the reader.” The opening sentence boldly proclaimed, “Warning! Never read this book out loud close to someone driving any type of vehicle.” That’s a bit peculiar.
What followed was a full page of guidelines on how to read the book, including advice like, “ensure you are not interrupted while reading,” and “it’s suggested to read from start to finish, even if the child falls asleep before you’re done.” Honestly, if my child dozes off, I doubt I’ll be finishing the story, but I pushed that thought aside.
Then came the fine print: “Disclaimer: While this book is harmless to use, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for the outcome.” Wait, what? Feeling uneasy, I resolved to mask my discomfort when I read it to my kids later that evening, as instructed.
When bedtime finally arrived, I snuggled in with my children and began to read. My four-year-old was already tired, and I could sense the book’s intended effect working on him. I followed the directions on voice modulation, emphasizing bolded words and adopting a fairy tale tone for the italicized phrases. On the first page, when strung together, the emphasized words formed a rather odd sequence: “and could right now… sleeping, now… easily fell asleep every evening… going to sleep, now… feeling even more tired… how tired that would make him now… sleep, now (insert child’s name)… fall asleep… Now… close to sleeping… now.” However, there were still about 400 other words scattered throughout the page, and I was stuck on the first one.
By the time I reached the fourth page, I had read nearly 1,000 words, and I came across an illustration that reminded me of my college days—when I was more into whimsical art and bizarre imagery than I care to admit. Then there was “Uncle Yawn,” a character who possesses “powerful, magical, and invisible sleeping powder” to help children and rabbits fall asleep. Eek. Not a fan.
As my son drifted off, my two-year-old suddenly shouted, “stop reading!” Clearly, she was less than thrilled with this “relaxation” technique. I tried again the next night, but neither child fell asleep and instead begged for Jack and the Beanstalk before I even reached page three.
Conclusion
So here’s the crux: Do you believe in hypnosis? Are you so desperate for a peaceful bedtime that you’re willing to try anything? If that’s the case, feel free to buy it, but don’t expect an engaging story, and be ready for some truly unsettling illustrations.
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Summary: The book The Rabbit Who Wants to Fall Asleep has been met with mixed reviews, as it attempts to lull children to sleep through a series of bizarre instructions and unsettling illustrations. While some parents may find value in its hypnotic approach, others may be put off by its peculiarities and lack of an engaging storyline.